


Tippecanoe and Fraser, Too

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-05
Updated: 2003-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: shootouts and canoes - a response to the canoe challenge at ds_flashfiction





	Tippecanoe and Fraser, Too

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Tippecanoe and Fraser, Too

## Tippecanoe and Fraser, Too

by chesamus

Disclaimer: the characters are not mine, nor do I make any guarantees about the safety of canoes

Author's Notes: my first ds posting - my first posting anywhere

Story Notes: 

* * *

That bullet was close. I ducked behind another crateful of tents, then realized Fraser wasn't behind me. Christ, I'm pinned down and Fraser's gone on walkabout... 

I popped my head up, and yanked it back when more bullets flew. "Fraser, goddamnit, where are you?" 

"Ray-" 

A tap from behind just about sent me through the roof. "Jesus, Fraser, are you crazy?! I got a loaded gun! What the hell ya doing sneaking up on me? Where were you?" 

Fraser pointed over his shoulder. "I thought I should reconnoiter to determine if there was anything available to assist us. This way." Fraser began to crawl north, and naturally, like an idiot, I followed. 

"Recona-what? We're in the middle of a gang war here!" We're always in the middle of a gang war, or a turf war, or a drug war. "You're a freak, ya know that? Why is it every time we go near a warehouse, we end up like carnival ducks?" We rolled across one aisle, and dove across the next. "And why warehouses? Why can't we get pinned down in a park?" 

"Your precinct covers the waterfront, Ray. It's only natural that we investigate crime in warehouses." 

"And they're always shootin' at us. I'm thinkin' all that red and leather you wear is hiding some kind of Mountie magnet that attracts, I dunno, guns or somethin'. Maybe they breed mounties that way so you can find your way North" 

We got to the back, but I was dipped if I knew why. Couldn't see an exit. Maybe it was behind the stacks of canoes. Fraser was manhandling them, piling 'em on top of the other. There must have been dozens.That's when I realized Fraser thought the canoes _were_ the exit. Or something. 

"That's just silly, Ray. People aren't magnets. Of course there are those who believe certain people possess some as yet unidentified energy field which prevents them from wearing watches. Could you take that end, please?" 

I grabbed one end of a really long canoe, but couldn't figure out what watches had to do with anything. "Where are we going with this, Frase?" 

"Just tip it on the side, Ray." Fraser climbed behind the pile and I followed- again. I always follow him. 

"How in the hell are canoes gonna help, here? These things wouldn't stop a spitball." 

Fraser yanked me down and pushed me under the stack. He slipped in and moved close. Not close enough, I thought, then flinched when the gunfire got louder. 

"They're fabricated of Kevlar, Ray, the same material as bulletproof vests. Not the same density, but they may provide us with a modicum of protection." Fraser moved again. 

"How much is a modicum, anyway?" I was trying hard to think of anything but his breath in my hair. "Why would ya need a bulletproof canoe?" 

"Well, the Kevlar isn't for bulletproofing. It does, however, make for a lightweight yet sturdy canoe; rigid enough to withstand rapids, but easily transported. In fact, many canoeists -" 

"I do not need a lecture on canoes, Frase. I need backup. Listen, do you hear anything like sirens? I'm gettin' claustrophobic." That wasn't even close to true; what I was gettin' was rigid, like the canoes. 

"No sirens yet, Ray. And I must apologize for the cramped quarters. Canoes, by and large, are not designed for this. Most of them are long rather than wide." Fraser shifted a bit. That piney vanilla stuff that made him smell like my mom's kitchen was making my nose itch, and pretty much the rest of me, too. "Of course there are those who believe that some width is necessary for a more stable ride." I don't think he realized how dirty that last bit sounded. 

"Wide versus long, huh, Frase? That's an old argument, there." I still don't know what made me say that. 

"Ah- well," Fraser's voice kinda tailed off. He got that one, and was probably the color of his coat. I wondered how flustered I could get him. 

"I think having both would make it a pretty nice trip, don't you?" 

"I'm not certain- that is, my experience-" Fraser cleared his throat. I bet he was rubbing his eyebrow raw about now. 

"And havin' both gives you options, ya know? You can handle smooth rides real easy, but if ya like the rougher stuff you could handle that, too." 

Ray-" Fraser's voice had dropped to a choked whisper. The gunfire was moving to the other side of the warehouse. 

"Yea, I'd like that. Makes me wonder why we didn't do any canoeing on our adventure." 

"I didn't realize- I hadn't thought you were interested in canoeing, Ray." Fraser was rattled, no question. I could hear sirens now, and he hadn't even mentioned them. 

"I've always been interested, Fraser." And I realized I couldn't keep joking- I needed him to know this wasn't one of them flirting conversations like I have with other people. "It's just that -well- you like winter, and I didn't think I could ever, you know, interest you in something that might warm ya up." 

I rolled over to face him. It was dark under those canoes, but I had enought light to see I just blew it, big time. He was all Mountie stiff and tight. "Frase-" 

"Ray-" I'd never heard his voice like that before. God, I'd hurt him. I reached out- don't know where I was plannin' for my hand to end up, but his grabbed it quick and squeezed tight enough to hurt. No way I was going to say let go. He held it on his chest, his hand shaking, and I could feel his heart pounding. "Ray, I'm so tired of winter." 

I couldn't say anything, and believe me that is not normal. Leaning over and laying one on my partner was not normal, too. But Mr. Instinct did the right thing. My mountie loosened up, and I finally found out why they wear those leather straps, cause if I hadn't wrapped my hand around one, I would have been in orbit by the time his tongue reached my tonsils. 

* * *

So now we own a canoe. Dad freaked at the idea of that rack on the Goat, maybe even more than when I told him about Ben. He forgave me once he realized our new apartment got satellite TV. I couldn't say it wasn't for the NFL games, but what guy is going to tell his old man that his lover likes to have sex watching the outdoor adventure channel?

* * *

End Tippecanoe and Fraser, Too by chesamus:

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